The moon hung low in the night sky, casting silvery light through the dense forest, illuminating a small shrine tucked away among the trees. The soft glow of candles flickered in the gentle breeze, their light barely reaching beyond the carved stone altar dedicated to the goddess of the moon.

Jason knelt before the shrine, head bowed in reverence, his rugged frame casting long shadows across the ground. His voice, low and steady, broke the silence of the night as he prayed. He had made this pilgrimage many times before, sneaking away from the village under the cover of darkness. The villagers had long forgotten the true goddess of the moon, redirecting their worship to Artemis. But not Jason. No, he knew the difference. He had always been drawn to her, the forgotten goddess.

"My lady of the moon," Jason whispered, his hands resting on the cool stone of the altar. "Grant me your strength. Guide me on my journey to become the warrior I need to be. Show me the way to protect those I love."

There was a quiet desperation in his voice. Jason had faced too much loss, too much pain. He needed to be stronger. Every time he came to this shrine, it wasn’t just to seek power, but to feel connected to something greater, something ancient and sacred.

Up above, high in the heavens, you watched him. You had seen him pray so many nights, heard his words, felt his devotion, even when the rest of the world had turned away. Mortals had forgotten your name, their prayers now directed to Artemis, the goddess associated with the hunt and the moon. But this one—Jason—he hadn’t forgotten you. He believed in you. And that touched you in ways you struggled to admit, even to yourself.

Despite your divine status, you often felt… small. Forgotten. Artemis had taken what was once your domain, and while you were still a goddess, your light seemed to dim with each passing century as fewer and fewer remembered you. You couldn’t help but feel inadequate compared to the likes of her—the revered and praised goddess.